


The Prayers of Your Children

by HannahJane



Series: The Hand of the Goddess [1]
Category: Grimm
Genre: Fusion, Gen, Grimm - Freeform, Irish Mythology - Freeform, Not Canon Compliant, Original Female Character - Freeform, secondary character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 21:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahJane/pseuds/HannahJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marie Kessler has always felt safe... even when she wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prayers of Your Children

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from "Orphic Hym to Gaia", Morgan is the Irish Goddess of War Morrigan, the italicized lyrics that appear between the sections are from a beautiful song by Heather Dale called "Mordred's Lullaby", and Grimm is not mine.

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

Marie Kessler's first memory was of a recurring dream: a liquid steel voice that sang to her from beyond the slats of her crib. A flash of green eyes in the shadows, sharp like blades of grass as the spellbinding voice continued to lull her while a gentle hand that glowed like white marble stroked her hair. Her second memory was of her parents, her mother and father bending over her crib, their voices not the one that led her into sleep night after night. Even in her little two-year-old brain, she understood the oddity of the whole thing, remembering a dream better than she remembered her own parents.

 

The song never changed. Sometimes Marie understood the words, sometimes she didn't; sometimes there were words, sometimes just beautiful notes, the melodic voice rising and falling with a hypnotic rhythm. It was always comforting, soothing, and she was forever rolling her head about on the pillow, trying to lean deeper into the cool touch that caressed her red hair. Even her own mother's touch was not as sought out as the touch of the dream woman.

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

Even though her parents had never been anything but honest about their bloodline, had explained the concept of Grimm, Marie had never truly believed in it until her father died, ripped apart by an old jagerbear. Even with the man's old age, her father had been no match for claws and teeth and bloodlust. Marie stood graveside, clutching her mother's hand as the dirt began to cover her father's coffin. She felt nothing, no tears, no anger, no confusion. She was empty, her soul rattling around inside her body, searching for something, anything.

 

That night, lying in her bed, she stared at the ceiling, the hollowness threatening to swallow her whole as the darkness settled everywhere like a low-lying fog.

 

_Marie…._ The voice echoed out of nowhere and everywhere, in her head and in her ears. Marie sat up, realizing suddenly that the darkness was unnatural, that night did not eliminate every trace of light, didn't drown the moonlight in it's murky depths. _Marie…_

 

"Who are you?" she was proud that there was no quaver in her voice even though she felt the tremble in her limbs. "What are you?"

 

_Smart little girl…_ the haunting voice echoed again and Marie looked around, still unable to see anything. It made her stomach lurch and so she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, willing it all away.

 

_So beautiful, but so sad… why are you sad, little brenhines?_ There was an inquisitive note to the bodiless voice, the only inflection in the tone.

 

"Go away, I don't want to talk to you." Marie said, memories of the afternoon's burial welling in her chest, surging into the emptiness and making her heart ache with the sudden influx of emotion.

 

_Your father…_ not a question, a statement. Marie remained stubbornly silent, fisting her hands in the bedcovers to keep herself anchored since the endless darkness was disorienting. The ache in her chest intensified and she was surprised to feel the prick of tears behind her eyes when none had been forthcoming earlier in the day, gripping her mother's hand, watching her father shut away in the dark earth forever.

 

_My beautiful little brenhines… whatever shall I do with you?_ This time there was a hint of something, affection maybe, in the tone and Marie felt a faint brush of cool soft skin against her cheek as if someone had gently stroked the backs of their fingers against the side of her face. It was the first time that she had been touched in days in a way that was not smothered in sympathy and pity. The tears suddenly welled higher, threatening to breach her eyelids.

 

_Will you accept a song of condolence, little one?_ Marie snuffled, hated herself for it and angrily dashed her eyes with the back of her hand.

 

"I don't want your pity. I want you to go away." She snapped, mortified to find the tears already leaking from the corners of her eyes, hear the wail trembling in her words. Another ghost touch, the invisible fingers stroking a lock of hair out of her face.

 

"Go away." It was a plea as more tears leaked down her cheeks.

 

_Cry, my little brenhines. There is no shame in tears for the fallen…_ as if on command, the floodgates burst open and Marie began to sob, huge chest-heaving cries that left her gasping for air as pain stole her breath. Sadness, huge and overwhelming crashed into her and she folded forward, wrapping her arms around herself as she shook. The touch was soft at first, almost hesitant and then the sensation intensified, arms solidifying around her, holding her against a chest that she could feel, but couldn't see. It was how she fell asleep, crying in the soft arms of darkness.

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

"Marie! Your babysitter is here!" Her mother's voice rang up the staircase, but Marie kept her nose buried in the Nancy Drew novel. She was fourteen and she'd been training to hunt mythological creatures since she was almost five, what did she need a babysitter for? Downstairs voices murmured, probably her mother warning the babysitter about Marie's "moods", and then came the sound of the front door closing. Marie paused, mid-read, cocking her head to listen for the tread of a foot on the stairs. When none came, she shrugged and turned back to her book.

 

"Hello, Marie." Startled, the book slipped from Marie's fingers, pages fluttering together, losing her spot. With a scowl, she turned to snap at the babysitter, but the words died on her lips when she saw the girl in the doorway. Tall, slender and pale like the moon, her hair fell over her shoulders like a black waterfall, glowing blue in the lights and her eyes looked like emeralds.

 

"I'm Morgan." Her voice lilted as she spoke, a trace of some lost accent curling the r in her name. Marie sat up, book forgotten as she stared at the girl who couldn't have been more than two or three years older than her. A memory stretched at the back of her mind, green eyes in the dark, but it was gone as soon as it had come.

 

"I'm going to order pizza. If you want some, come downstairs." Morgan said, her voice still dancing over the words, a hint of a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Without another word, she turned, her hair rippling behind her like a flag and vanished with that soundless stride.

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

It was not until twenty after her mother died in a car accident that Marie came into her Grimm powers. It was at the same time that she realized the truth about the lullaby singer who had never left her side as a child, night after night, ushering her into sleep with the song. Morgan, the former babysitter, had become a semi-permanent fixture in her life, a friend who popped in and out at random intervals; a mysterious, dark-haired friend with no permanent address and piercing eyes who always managed to make Marie feel safe.

 

It happened four days after Marie glimpsed her first eisbiber and had a panic attack in the middle of the mall. Morgan had called and asked if she wanted to get coffee and Marie had agreed, knowing that even if she could not discuss the Grimm aspect of her life, she could at least count on Morgan to distract her from the creatures that were suddenly all around her.

 

Across the coffee shop, she caught a flash of midnight black and walked that way, stopping dead in her tracks when Morgan turned to face her and her face flickered, just for the briefest of seconds. Marie saw glowing golden skin and green eyes that seemed alive with dancing flames and black feathers in place of hair. As if knowing that her true self had been spotted, Morgan rose gracefully from the table, her visage flickering back and forth between the face that Marie knew and the terrifyingly beautiful face beneath. To Marie, it seemed like everyone around them was frozen mid-motion and the only movement was Morgan gliding across the floor, her hair-feathers swaying. The girl came to a stop in front of her, invading her space, standing so close that their chests touched.

 

"Hello, little _brenhines_ ," Morgan said softly in the voice that had comforted Marie since she was young, after her father's death. Her features continued to flick back and forth from her usual porcelain doll appearance to the supernatural glow of her creature face. "I've been waiting for you to see me."

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

"What are you?" Marie had asked the question so many times over the years that she didn't expect an answer. It was almost six years after Morgan had revealed her true form, suddenly popping up in New Orleans where Marie was working part time as a librarian, part-time as a Grimm, mediating the busy creature world of Louisiana. Across the room, sprawled haphazardly on the couch, Morgan didn't even twitch, but Marie knew better, knows that the girl was ignoring her on purpose. She flung the nearest object – a throw pillow – at the boneless female, the missile landing with deadly accuracy right in the middle of Morgan's face.

 

"You don't trust the explanation I've already given?" Morgan asks from under the pillow, still not moving.

 

"I'm not stupid, Morgan. You're not a creature. You look like one, but you're not." Marie said, reaching for her teacup. Morgan knocked the pillow aside, sitting up on her elbows, her hair sweeping against the couch cushions with a silky rasp. Marie had already done so much research over the years, searching for stories of girls who didn't age with eyes like green glass, had even searched using the description of Morgan's true face. Nothing ever came up though.

 

"But I could easily make you think that I was one." Those green eyes flared, painting her cheekbones, making them look sharp, changing her face from ethereally beautiful to something fierce and frightening.

 

"You wouldn't hurt me." Marie replied calmly, regarding the woman over the rim of her cup. "I'm your _brenhines_." One delicate black eyebrow arched ever so slightly at the appropriation of the pet name that she always used and a deep silence filled the room as Morgan regarded her, expressionless as ever. Finally, she spoke.

 

"I am beyond your understanding, Marie, Grimm or not. I am legend and myth. I will not define myself to you according to the fragile language of humans. All you need to know is that I am your watcher."

 

Marie did not see Morgan again for almost two years.

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

Morgan re-appeared the night that Marie got the call that her sister had been killed, murdered with her husband by creatures. The night Nick came into her life. She sat in the living room, staring at the baby in the car seat, taking in the cherubic face, dark hair already spilling down onto his forehead as he stared at her with big grey eyes, his mother's eyes, tears threatening to spill.

 

With her usual abruptness, Morgan swept in through the front door, shedding her biker jacket and walked straight up to Nick, leaning over him, her dark hair falling down to form a curtain around the baby. Marie watched numbly as Morgan deftly unbuckled the straps that restrained the infant and swept him up into her arms, humming softly under her breath. Familiarity tingled along Marie's spine as the hum became words, Morgan's beautiful voice rising in strength until it filled the living room.

 

The voice from her childhood swept over Marie as Morgan danced gracefully around the living room, singing a lullaby to the baby boy in her arms whose eyes fought a valiant battle over the sleep that threatened to close them. Marie fought the same battle as Morgan continued to sing, the lilt of her words weaving a warm blanket that seemed to settle over everything. Safe, comforted, and warm, Marie allowed herself to quietly cry for her sister.

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

"Hi," Marie knew the tone in her fifteen-year-old nephew's voice, knew he'd seen Morgan lazing in the breakfast nook in her short black dress and boots, looking utterly enchanting. She half-turned from the cups of tea she was making and found Nick in the kitchen doorway, staring wide-eyed at Morgan who still looked the same that she had that evening almost twenty-two years when she appeared in the doorway of Marie's bedroom. Still like a beautiful carefree young woman whose worries were few and far between. It was not a reflection that Marie saw in the mirror in the morning. No, in the mirror, she saw age in the line of her cheeks, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the grey beginning to creep into her hair.

 

"Hello, Nicholas." Morgan's voice lilted in greeting, her green eyes taking in the gawky teenage boy in his Thundercats t-shirt. She smiled. "It's been a long time since we've seen each other." Nick's forehead wrinkled in confusion and he glanced at Marie who just barely bit back a smile. That was a blatant lie. Nick had told her several times about dreams of glowing green eyes in the dark and a voice that sang him to sleep when he woke from a nightmare. Her friend was up to her old tricks again.

 

"She's a very old friend, Nick." Marie explained. "Do you have homework?" He nodded and with one more long glance at the raven-haired girl at the table, obviously trying to figure out how a girl his own age could be a "very old friend", he turned and she heard the tromp of his feet mounting the stairs.

 

"Flirt," Marie accused gently as she carried the cups to the table.

 

"He's a child," Morgan managed to look affronted, but it soon melted back into her regular expressionless features as she accepted her mug and curled her slender hands around it.

 

"You sing to him too. Why?" Marie stated, lifting her own mug and inhaling the teasing aroma of fresh peppermint tea. Morgan shrugged, reaching for the sugar bowl on the table.

 

"He is your _teulu_." Morgan's accent thickened on the foreign word as she spooned sugar into her tea. "Therefore he is my _teulu_." Marie's confusion must have shown on her face because Morgan spoke again as she lifted the mug to her mouth.

 

"Family, _brenhines_. He is family."

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

The _blutbad_ had gotten in some good shots, Marie mused darkly as she stared at the angry bruises on her torso. It didn't matter though, she'd killed him, put the murderer down like the dog that he was. He hadn't killed her, the cancer hadn't killed her; she felt damn near invincible, pain and exhaustion aside. With a groan, she pulled her shirt down over the bruises and pulled open the bathroom door.

 

"You are not the most skilled warrior under my protection, but I do believe that you may be the most stubborn." It didn't surprise her at all, the sight of the perpetually seventeen Morgan – clad in jeans and a black sweatshirt – leaning against the opposite wall, her ivory skin glowing even though there was only ambient light in the crappy hotel room that Marie had rented for this week.

 

"I haven't seen you for ten years." Marie said, grasping the doorjamb as a fresh wave of pain washed over her. Morgan's face betrayed no expression, her arms folded across her chest. Fury rose in Marie's chest, stirring like a whirlwind that threatened to choke her.

 

"Get out." Marie snapped, still holding onto the door. "Leave me alone. Get out!" the shout was agony, but Marie was past caring. The battle tonight had left her drained, emotionally and physically and the sudden reappearance of her old friend was just one more blow on top of everything else. Morgan chose now to show up, not three years ago when the doctor had delivered the diagnosis, when she had spent hours in the chemo-suite, when she had been violently ill from the treatment, her body battling itself. She hadn't been there through the battles with creatures over the years, the bruises and wounds, through the injuries and the agony. The night song had been conspicuously absent these last ten years.

 

Morgan didn't move, didn't even blink, and Marie staggered forward, grabbing the front of her jacket, meaning to drag the girl to the door. Her body had other ideas and as she started to pull, her knees gave out and she collapsed gracelessly to the floor, pain radiating from her chest. Morgan still didn't move as Marie gasped for air on the floor.

 

Slowly, with a grace and speed that couldn't have been anything other than otherworldly, Morgan sunk into a crouch, putting herself at eye-level with Marie. The anger was gone, replaced with exhaustion and emptiness. It was the other Morgan who faced her, the one with fiery eyes and golden skin, the sharp fierce features that were both frightening and arresting. Her cool hands cupped Marie's face, stroking along the edges of her head-wrap, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks.

 

"You are stronger than you think, _brenhines_. You are mine and it gives you strength." Marie closed her eyes and when she opened them, Morgan was gone.

 

_Hush child,_

_The darkness will rise from the deep_

_And carry you down into sleep_

 

Laying on the cold linoleum floor of the hospital hallway, knowing she was dying, knowing that there was so much to tell Nick, that she didn't have time, Marie felt regret for the first time in her life. Her nephew hovered over her, pain etched on his face as he held her close as if he could keep death away with his arms.

 

The song was quiet at first, twining around them, sliding down her arms and soaking into her palms. Marie gasped for air, the numbness spreading through her body. The voice grew in strength, swelled around her, becoming a blanket of sound and somewhere in the numbness, a flame of warmth sprang to life.

 

"Morgan," She gasped as a glow appeared behind Nick, growing, morphing into a silhouette of a woman, Morgan emerging out of the amorphous light. The woman crouched next to Nick, the latter unaware of the former, even though the elaborate gown that she wore seemed to drape around him, enfolding him in the jet black fabric.

 

"Hello again, _brenhines_." A delicate ivory hand reached out, stroking across her head, icily cool against her burning skin. "I've come to say goodbye." Marie stared at her, brown eyes locking with the most intense green that she could ever remember.

 

_Morgan_ , she thought the word, unable to say it and a hint of a smile that was almost sad turned up the corners of the girl's mouth. Morgan didn't do sad and that was heart-wrenching all by itself.

 

"I'm here, little one. Don't be afraid." Morgan's cool hand never ceased it's stroking and Marie let her eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments, relishing in the comfort that she found in that touch. Nick made a sound and her eyes opened again, staring up at her nephew. There was so much that he needed to know, so much that she needed to tell him. He was so completely alone. As if sensing the turmoil inside her, Morgan laid a hand on Nick's shoulder, a gesture that he didn't respond to.

 

"I will take care of him, Marie. Do not worry. I will sing for him for as long as he lives." There was no tender human emotion in her face, but there was something else, something fierce and ancient and that was far more comforting than empty platitudes of sympathy and pity.

 

"Trust your instincts." Marie gasped out, numb all over now, feeling the darkness clawing through her. Morgan's gaze never wavered. Nick's expression wrenched even more deeply into pain and his grip on her hand tightened.

 

Marie Kessler's last glimpse of life was of the goddess who had watched over her during her entire life, bending low over Nick, looking terrible and beautiful all at once, one hand gently stroking the dark hair of his head as she began to hum.


End file.
